Killing The Blood Cleaner (17 page)

“We are the only prison in the State that still has free weights. The inmates at Milledgeville tore up their prison and used the free weights to bust out the Control Room glass. The Commissioner took the weights out of the other prisons. He left them at Lester since they were in the Court Order. Judge Valentino said he wasn’t going to punish the guys at Lester for foolishness at Milledgeville. Joey, here, spends all the time he can with the weights and it shows. When he arrived here five years ago, the meth had him down to 140 pounds. But he is feeling better now,” Captain Jamison said as the inmate exhaled deeply and sat on the metal weight bench. Jack noticed that Tacy was breathing a little deeper also.

Jack smiled as he watched Tacy lustily admiringly the inmate, her hands on her hips. “You know, President Carter said that lust in your heart is a sin, Tacy,” Jack said quietly.

“I am a sinner, then,” she responded in a very low sexy voice as she shifted her heels to slightly widen her stance.

“We need to show the doctor the dogs and his State house,” Captain Jamison said, as he also observed Tacy’s enjoyment of the scene. Jack could see the inmates’ disappointment as the group started to leave.

TWENTY-THREE

The sound of barking dogs was very loud once they got through the sally port of the back gate. Jack watched as a delivery van was searched prior to being allowed into the prison. One officer opened the cargo doors and poked around the boxes of canned goods with a flashlight and a stick. Another officer looked under the truck with a mirror which was attached to a metal retractable pole.

“There is no way we can keep all the drugs, cell phones, liquor, marijuana and cigarettes out, but at least we can raise the bar a little. Now and then, they get sloppy and we catch somebody,” Captain Jamison said as they observed the process. “We confiscated over a hundred cell phones last year.”

“I imagine that stuff is mighty valuable inside these walls,” Jack said, thinking that even with a search there were numerous possibilities for concealment.

“Yeah, it’s all gold inside here. But unfortunately a lot of it comes through with the officers and staff. We get a bunch fired every year. Every once and a while somebody gets prosecuted,” Captain Jamison said. “It’s bad enough when they bring in a little dope or something, but sometimes inmates get real tricky. There was an incident, years ago, where some cans of beans in a Christmas package turned out to contain a .25 caliber automatic and some bullets. That caused a real bad day in the neighborhood.”

“I am amazed that could happen,” Jack stated.

“Oh, a lot of times it starts out real innocent. Please sneak in a package of snacks from my Mama. Then it turns out that they aren’t snacks and they aren’t from Mama,” Captain Jamison replied. “Also, once an employee breaks the rules for an inmate then the inmate can threaten to turn them in and can get the upper hand.”

“Don’t forget that love and romance sometimes cause problems,” Tacy interjected.

“Oh yes! Love has been known to throw open the gates many times. My favorite is a great con artist named Jim Tabor who is now staying with us. He is a slick talking, good-looking fellow. They had him working in the kitchen at a prison in Milledgeville. He seduced the dietitian who was a big, lonesome, white lady. She actually brought him a loaded gun and he was out of there in a flash and on his way to Florida where they caught him a year later. She was heartbroken he didn’t take her with him. Fortunately, if you had to give a gun to an inmate, he would be the one. So nobody got hurt. Once he was recaptured the Department decided he needed a little higher security environment so he will be with us for the next fifteen years,” Captain Jamison responded.

Once outside the gate, they approached the kennel. It was a small, brick building with a tin roof, surrounded by a chain-link fence. Inside were numerous dog runs and a large yard of swept, red Georgia clay. The gate was unlocked and they entered the kennel to the great excitement of the numerous bloodhounds, who barked and howled mournfully. Jack was surprised that the usual kennel smells seemed to be at a minimum. Several of the dogs rushed up to greet Captain Jamison and lick his hands.

“Dogs, dogs! You’re supposed to be ferocious bloodhounds. All you want to do is lick me to death and be petted,” Captain Jamison said as he patted each dog on the head. Jack and Tacy followed his lead and also petted the dogs that had now approached them.

On the yard was an older man with frazzled white hair who was wearing a plaid cotton shirt with overalls, and an equally ancient black inmate. They were surrounded by five bloodhound puppies that played and nipped at their feet under the watch of their mother, a large black and tan bloodhound who sat at the edge of the yard in the shade. The two men were seated on the ground and from time to time gave one of the puppies a treat. Beside them on the ground were several rolls of toilet paper.

“Folks, this is Hiram White our Dog Handler and his assistant, Bo Lankford. They run the kennel and train these ferocious bloodhounds,” Captain Jamison said, pointing to the two men who waved at the group. “Why don’t you show the folks how you train them to track.”

The men nodded and the man in overalls picked up a reddish puppy and held his nose to the chest of the black inmate. The inmate popped a treat into the dog’s mouth which produced yelps of jealousy from the pups below. The inmate then took a roll of toilet paper and secured the end under a large rock. He handed the pup to the other man who put the pup’s head inside his overalls to block the dog’s view. The inmate then began to move away, slowly unrolling the paper as he went, making sure the paper was well handled by his weathered black hands. Soon the inmate was at the other side of the yard and hidden behind a large tree. A trail of toilet paper clearly showed the way to the hidden inmate.

The pup was then placed on the ground near the beginning of the toilet paper trail. “Treat, Fluffy, treat!” the man in overalls said as the puppy began a serious sniff of the paper. “That’s it boy! Treat, treat!” he encouraged, as the little dog moved his nose slowly along the paper and crossed the yard. In a few seconds, the dog had followed the paper trail and went around the tree to the inmate.

“You got me! Treat time!” the inmate said as he stepped out from behind the tree with the pup in his hands. The pup was happily chomping on his treat and licking the inmate in hopes of another.

“We do these toilet paper trails to get them started with tracking. Then we make the pieces of toilet paper further apart. Finally, we get rid of the paper completely. Sometimes we put patches of pepper or water in the gaps so they can figure out how to handle that and get back on the trail. To the dogs, it is a game for treats,” the Dog Handler explained to the group.

“So it is not exactly the Killer Bloodhounds from the movies?” Jack asked as an older dog continued to lick his hand.

“No, they might lick you to death when they find you, especially if they’re wondering where you have hidden their treat,” the Dog Handler responded.

“And did I hear you call that little pup, Fluffy?” Jack asked. “What sort of a chain gang name for a dog is that?”

“Yeah, we used to have names for them all like, Killer and Chainsaw, but with the Court Order and all, lawyers came down from the Attorney General’s office in Atlanta and gave them all new names. That hound licking you is Happy, formerly known as Gator.”

Jack noticed that each of the dog houses at the end of each run had a freshly painted name over the entrance. He also noticed a small dog graveyard just outside the fence. Near the fence were two fresh graves each with a small white wooden cross with the deceased dog’s name neatly stenciled in black. “It looks like you have lost two recently,” Jack said pointing at the fresh mounds of earth.

The Dog Handler looked over at the graves with sadness. “Those two fools broke away on a training exercise and decided to go after some wild hog babies. Unfortunately for them, Momma Hog was close by. The experienced dogs know better than to take on these giant wild hogs, which are about the size of a car with razor tusks. And just because they’re gentle dogs doesn’t mean they aren’t effective. The experienced hounds can track an inmate across creeks and highways, through swamps and ignore pepper and other smelly stuff that gets tossed out. They might slow down for a minute for some meat, but then they will head right on,” the Dog Handler continued.

Tacy picked up one of the pups which was scrambling around her feet. “I think ‘Stinky’ might be a good name for you,” she said, looking at the small pile of dog poo at her feet.

“Stinky it is, ma’am,” the Dog Handler replied. “Doc, if you would like to keep one of the older dogs over at your house for a pet, that would be fine. They are good company and Lester can be kind of lonesome at night for a young man.”

“Which dogs are you talking about?” Jack asked as he basked in the canine affection all around him and thought happily about his long deceased greyhound, Polly.

“That one right next to you with a white spot on its head that makes him look bald. His name is Slick after one of our Commissioners that had a shiny bald head. He is a prize tracker but we have now retired him. We still use him for stud. All these rascal puppies are his,” the Dog Handler replied.

Jack looked down at the dog in question who returned his attention with a happy gaze and vigorous tail wagging. “I guess I do need a watchdog will all these criminals around,” he said, patting the dog on the head.

“The only way that dog is going to bite anyone is if he sees somebody he likes being attacked. Otherwise, it’s only licks and tail wagging,” the Dog Handler said. The dog seemed to understand he was being discussed and wagged his tail excitedly in response. “I will get you a leash and some dog food. You can just let him loose in your yard in the daytime. It is fenced and he won’t go anywhere but just lie in the sun.”

As the group headed to his new State house, Jack found himself in possession of a new friend tugging at the end of his leash and a large bag of dry dog food. The dog would occasionally bark at a squirrel or chipmunk, but otherwise trotted happily along. “I really wasn’t expecting a hound dog as part of the perks of this job,” Jack said as they walked across a newly mowed field toward his new residence. “I do miss my long departed greyhound, Polly. So I guess I’m just a complete pushover for such a fine dog.” The hound barked slightly as if in affirmation.

At the edge of the field was a small, wood framed house surrounded by a white picket fence. It had a tin roof and a red brick chimney. The house and the fence were shiny and crisp with a fresh coat of white paint. To the left of the house was a well tended vegetable garden which contained tomato plants, squash, lettuce and several large eggplants. Behind the house, the yard sloped gently down to the river which was edged by several large oak trees laden with moss. Beside the river was a concrete bench with a view of the slow-moving black water. A rickety looking, wooden dock jutted a short way into the water. The grass was freshly cut and there were numerous hydrangeas blooming throughout the property. The dog sniffed carefully as they entered the gate.

“He can smell a lot of folks coming and going since we moved Dr. Bridge’s stuff out,” Captain Jamison remarked as they watched the dog explore the area with his sensitive nose.

“What a wonderful house!” Jack said, truly surprised at his accommodations. “It is perfect, with a view of the river and even a growing vegetable garden.

“Dr. Bridge loved her garden. We have been keeping it up since she died,” Tacy said fondly.

Captain Jamison took a key from his massive key ring and opened the door. “It ain’t the Cloister, but it’s clean and comfortable.”

Jack and Tacy stepped inside at his invitation. The house had shiny, dark red, varnished, hardwood floors across the large living room and dining area. There was a freshly upholstered sofa with two wing chairs which were similar to the ones Jack had seen in offices throughout the prison. On the floor was a multi colored, oval, handmade braided rug. Over the mantle was a large framed portrait of Robert E Lee. Beside the fireplace was a dented but shiny copper pot which was full of fatwood for kindling.

“The furniture is mostly from the shop and made by the inmates. The Ladies Association did the rug and the Warden bought it at their auction. We had to move the General out of the Lester elementary school since he is no longer politically correct. Since this is a private residence we thought it was okay to have his picture over the fireplace. You can move him out if you want,” Captain Jamison said.

“I am glad to have General Lee. Do you think I’m a Yankee?” Jack said with a laugh.

“With all the folks moving to Atlanta these days you can never tell,” Captain Jamison replied.

The small kitchen was spotless with a new patterned linoleum floor. The window over the sink looked out over the river. “Tacy, you’re going to have to instruct me in cooking up some local favorites,” Jack said as he peeked into some of the cabinets.

“I’ll show you the mysteries of smoked mullet and gumbo any time,” Tacy said with a smile. “I might even throw in some shrimp hush puppies.”

They moved to the bedroom which was dominated by a king-size bed covered with a handmade quilt. Over the bed was a large oil painting which Jack recognized as the view of the river out back, accurate down to the concrete bench. The small unfinished pine chest was topped with a tall, blue, ceramic light with matching shade completed the room’s furnishings.

“Dr. Bridge did that painting of the river,” Tacy said. “Some of these other paintings in the house are hers also. But she gave most of them away to the folks at the institution.”

“She was obviously a very talented lady,” Jack said as he admired the detail in the painting. “I will be very comfortable here,” he said as he pushed his hand on the firm mattress. “This place has everything I need and more.” As he looked at the huge bed, he could not help imagining occupying it with Tacy, who stood directly across from him, looking gorgeous in her crisp nurse’s uniform. Looking out the window, Jack could see the dog chasing a squirrel down to the river and up one of the big oak trees.

“Doc, I think this completes the tour. Is there anything else you would like to see?” Captain Jamison said with a glance over to Tacy.

“No, I think this has given me a good overview. I’m sure there are still many mysteries to be uncovered but I think Tacy and I need to get back before medical gets overwhelmed,” Jack said. Tacy smiled and glanced at the bed herself for a sweet instant, recalling her comment to her friends that, “… if I do find somebody good, you can be sure I will give them both barrels.”